“When you find your identity from the one who created you, it will change your whole perspective.”
“As I get older, I realize that age is less about chronology and more about attitude and spirituality.”
Jane Fonda said that in Act V. I totally get it. That is who I am; a self-assured woman of faith.
My life changed after using the last Q-tip Monday night. Sincerely. I planned to pick up a new box on Tuesday once I finished at the library. The pharmacy was right next door but I managed to forget. On Wednesday, I didn’t think about the Q-tips until I climbed out of the shower that night. Frustrated I muttered, “Oh God! …Let me remember cotton swabs next time I’m out?!” I put on my pajamas and wrote ‘Qtips’ on our refrigerator shopping list.
Thursday was my birthday, so my focus was certainly not on Q-tips or any other kind of cotton swab. I readied for work, caught the train to Boston and bought munchkins for our office. Nobody knew it was my birthday and the morning went by slowly. At noon, I decided to stretch my legs, get some fresh air and take a walk.
The tourists were on the Freedom Trail and the office workers were sitting down to cafe lunches or walking back to buildings with their to-go sacks. I walked with a fast stride, smelled the aromas and listened to the sounds of the city. I watched all the people but saw the homeless. How hard is it for them to watch the feeding frenzy?
The rest of the story that follows is not an event I would typically discuss; moments that happen in my Christian life are between myself and God. However, I feel obligated to spread these special words because I think God works in mysterious and beautiful ways.
I passed many storefronts at a quick pace.
Until I didn’t.
My stride slowed and uncontrollably stopped. I was suddenly standing in front of a very crippled man in his wheelchair. The sensation didn’t scare me and I was not afraid to be with this helpless person. I wanted to assist but didn’t know how. I do know not to give money in the streets. There is a shrine, a soup kitchen and a shelter nearby.
I found myself saying words i hadn’t even formed in my mind yet:
“What can I help you with today?”, as I bent over his chair.
His response was slow, labored and garbled. I didn’t understand anything that he was straining so hard to express.
My soul bled for him as I looked to his hands for some aided expression.
They were twisted and fist-like with long, dirty nails.
They grabbed my heart.
“I am sorry, tell me again.”, now I had to know.
He tried once more, working hard to form lips and sound.
I turned my ear toward him and thought I heard words.
Trying to match a food with what I thought I heard, I questioned, “Chips?! You want potato chips?” I turned back to face him, hoping to see acknowledgement in his eyes.
They were covered with black sunglasses; it was a beautiful sunny day.
Don’t let me give up, I thought. This is my fellow human being. He turned his head, left and right and then directly at me.
A definite but pleading “No.” registered in his mouth and my ears.
I had his lunch request all wrong, didn’t know what else to do, and then, at that very defeated moment, I heard his continued mumble as clear as a foggy day.
He spoke more slowly. “No, Q-tips.” and low but distinct, “I need Q-tips.”
I froze. In elation. For so many reasons.
“Of course. You know what?”, I was so happy and continued, “I need Q-tips too. I’ll buy some for both of us.”
It was as easy as the nearby CVS and the cosmetics aisle. I was overjoyed that I’d waited to understand. Coming together may have been God’s plan all along? My spiritual life changed because remembering new Q-tips helped me not to hear, but to see, in a whole new way.
Happy Birthday to me.
Know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit
which is in you
which ye have from God
and that ye are not your own?
For ye are bought with a price.
Therefore glorify God in your body
and in your spirit
which are God’s.
1 Corinthians 6:19-20
TheZigZiglar via Instagram
Mail. Food. Babies. Lord.
Thank you for who You are
and helping me be who I am.
Offered to Jesus is called
“When the Lord closes a door…”
The motion is a slam, and the view is through pains of glass, but renewed spirit will breeze through the screen.
“Somewhere he opens a window…”
I awake feeling both exhausted and restless. Regardless, I feel the need to work but have such low energy, even getting the mail seems like a bad idea. The mailbox seems too
My body is so tired, it feels like I walked from New England to Mississippi today. Actually, I think I was dragged there on my back because it is sore as hell.
When I arrived on the Mississippi plantation, the devil filled me with a sack full of cotton bolls. I swear even my belly button is sore and dehydrated. My insides are so dry I wonder how my nose can drip. Any mucus that finally develops must be coming from my lungs. My chest is tight, like a barge pushing against the tide, trying to pull every part of my body out of misery and into a better place. I try to put on a brave face but it is under pressure too.
My body is imploding.
My reaction is to counterattack and explode onto the page.
I soak up the sunshine
and enjoy the breeze.
My mind cannot rest
And my body hurts,
so I work on my soul.
I’m finally wide awake and am content and grateful. I feel the need to send my body rest because ignoring that letter of the law seems like a bad idea. My spirit is alive and He is